Double Cross

by Malorie Blackman

  'Who is this Boris Haddon?'

  'He owns a bakery in North Meadowview. It's doing very well by all accounts.'

  Hence a vulture like McAuley circling.

  'Does Haddon know you're coming?'

  ''Course not,' Dan scoffed. 'At least . . . at least, I don't think so.'

  'So are you supposed to go to his house or his shop or what?'

  'Mr McAuley said Haddon would be in his shop till six this evening, but I thought we could go now before the lunch-time crowd hits the place.'

  'Wouldn't McAuley have warned him to have the money ready to hand over?' I argued. 'In which case, Haddon does know you're coming.'

  Dan considered. 'I suppose that makes sense,' he said grudgingly.

  'Did McAuley tell you to ask for my help?' I frowned.

  'No.' Dan looked puzzled. 'Why would he? I'm asking you as a friend.'

  A friend . . .

  'Are you going to help me then?' Dan asked. 'Please, Tobey.'

  Pause.

  'OK, I'll do it.' But my reasons weren't exactly altruistic. Not even close.

  'Tobey, are you ready to get your hands dirty? 'Cause you're no use to me if you're not prepared to back me up.'

  'I'll give you all the backup you'd give me,' I replied.

  Dan's eyes narrowed. I forced a smile.

  'We're cool,' I told him. 'So how do we get to Haddon's shop?'

  Dan frowned. 'By bus. How d'you think?'

  I only just managed to stop myself from creasing up. Two hard-guy wannabes getting heavy with one of McAuley's victims, then making good their escape on the local bus. Oh yeah, we were really threatening! If this Haddon guy managed to pick himself up from the floor when he'd finished howling with laughter, then he just might find the energy to boot Dan and me out of his shop.

  'You'll need this,' said Dan, holding out a sheathed knife, its handle towards me.

  And all at once, it wasn't so funny any more. I hesitated. Dan thrust it towards me. I took it.

  'Am I likely to need it?' I asked.

  'Probably,' said Dan. 'We have to show Haddon that we mean business.'

  'And if he has a gun?'

  'He wouldn't be that stupid, not when he knows that we work for Mr McAuley.'

  Then why did we need knives? Dan sounded like he was one hundred per cent sure this Haddon guy wouldn't put up a fuss or a fight. But fear or desperation often drove people to do things that stupidity alone would never make them consider.

  'Once you tell Haddon who you work for, surely you won't need any kind of hardware?' I pointed out.

  'It's for protection, just in case.'

  I stuck the knife in my jacket pocket.

  'I'll get my jacket,' Dan said, heading into his house.

  The moment his back was turned, the mask-like expression on my face slipped. My friend, Dan. The friend to all – if the price was right and it didn't cost him anything. And I had to hide my true feelings because I still needed him. Hiding my true feelings was so hard, but I was becoming a master at it. Dan grabbed his jacket off the banister and left his house, slamming the door shut behind him just as hard as he could. I was amazed the glass didn't fall out of it.

  'Is your mum at home then?'

  'Yeah, and fast asleep, but not alone.'

  'Anyone you know?'

  'Nope. She rolled in around three o'clock this morning, pissed as a newt with some guy in tow. I locked my door and left them to it.'

  We walked in silence. In a world of changes, Dan's mum was a constant. She'd been that way for as long as I could remember. There'd been a time, before Dan started working for McAuley, when the only decent meals he got were round at my house. He used to bring his clothes to ours to be washed as well, before he made enough money to pay for a washer-dryer of his own.

  My friend, Dan.

  'Dan,' I began, 'what's your ambition?'

  'What d'you mean?'

  'I mean, what'll you be doing in five years' time, ten years, fifteen?'

  'I don't know, do I?'

  'Will you still be working for McAuley?'

  'Hell, no,' Dan said vehemently. 'I'll have my own business by then. I'll be running things.'

  'So you're not in McAuley's pocket?'

  'I'm not in anyone's pocket. There's only three things in this world I care about – me, myself and I.'

  That I could believe.

  Less than fifteen minutes later, Dan and I hopped off the bus at the High Street. It was less than a minute's walk to Haddon's bakery. I was about to walk in, but Dan's hand on my arm stopped me.

  'Tobey, are you OK with this?'

  I nodded. 'Let's just get it over with before I come to my senses.'

  We walked in. The smell of fresh bread and sticky cakes wafted enticingly around me. The shop was bright and airy and spotlessly clean. Behind the counter was a door, half wood, half frosted glass. Adjacent to the counter against one wall was a huge fridge filled with sandwiches and various drinks in bottles and cartons. Opposite, against the other wall, were bakery racks filled with different kinds of loaves, rolls and pastries, with tongs next to almost every item that wasn't already wrapped. The cream cakes were behind glass next to the counter and they looked good. I could see why the shop was so popular. A Cross man and a Nought woman were serving. Dan ambled about looking at the sandwiches and pies. I stood by the door as we'd agreed on the bus. When the last of the three customers in the shop finally paid for her cottage loaf and left, Dan nodded to me. I turned over the sign hanging on the door to indicate that the shop was now closed, just as a Cross man tried to enter the shop.

  'Sorry, mate,' Dan called out. 'We're closing until we catch all the mice that are running around over the shop floor.'

  The customer – ex-customer – looked horrified and hurried off. I stood in front of the door so that no one else could walk in uninvited.

  'What d'you two think you're doing?' the Cross guy who I assumed was Boris Haddon exclaimed angrily.

  'It's OK, Mr Haddon,' Dan said amicably. 'Mr McAuley sent us.'

  Boris glanced uneasily at the Nought girl standing next to him.

  'Sophie, take the rest of the day off,' he told her.

  'But, Mr Haddon . . .'

  'Just do as I say,' said Boris. 'OK?'

  Sophie looked from her boss to Dan and me and back again. 'OK, Mr Haddon,' she replied nervously.

  Boris gave her a studied look. Sophie pulled off her hat and her apron, throwing them beneath the counter, before bending to retrieve her jacket from the same place. Alarm bells started pealing, only the cacophony was inside my head, not in the shop. No employee kept their jacket beneath the serving counter if there was somewhere else to hang it up. Leaving personal possessions on the shop floor was a guaranteed way to get them nicked. And from the look of it, this shop had a private room behind the counter. I shifted my position to try and see through the frosted glass that led to the private room, but Boris moved almost imperceptibly in my way. Almost, but not quite.

  'Who did you say you two worked for?' Boris asked.

  'Mr McAuley sent us,' Dan began. 'You need to pay my boss what you owe—'

  'Dan, I think we've got the wrong shop.'

  Dan turned to me, frowning. 'What're you on about? Of course we haven't . . .'

  I tried a different tack. 'Dan, your boss only asked you to request that the debt be paid within the next thirty days.' I turned to the shop owner. 'Mr Haddon, we're sorry to trouble you. We just wanted to politely request that you send a cheque to . . . that you send on a cheque at your earliest convenience.'

  'Tobey, what the hell d'you think you're doing?' Dan rounded on me.

  'It's time for us to go,' I told him.

  'The hell it is. I'm not leaving here without the money this dagger owes Mr McAuley.' Dan's hand was already in his jacket pocket as he started behind the counter.

  I raced across the shop to step in front of him. Furious, he tried to shove me out of the way. Eyes wide, mouth open, Haddon took a
couple of steps back. Dan's hand was emerging from his jacket pocket, but his hand was no longer empty. So I hit him. Less than a second later, he fell to the ground, more from surprise than any other reason. I certainly hadn't hit him that hard. I squatted down beside him, holding out my hand to help him up, my other hand also busy as it moved over his jacket pocket. Dan scowled at me.

  'Dan, I'm sorry about that . . .'

  He pushed me aside as he struggled to get up under his own steam.

  'I apologize for the disturbance, Mr Haddon,' I said. 'Dan, we should leave—'

  'Is this what you call having my back?' Dan asked with contempt, shoving me backwards – hard.

  He was starting towards me when the door behind Boris Haddon opened and a swarm of coppers flooded out.

  'DOWN ON THE GROUND. NOW.'

  'GET DOWN.'

  The orders were coming from all directions. I dropped to the floor immediately. One copper knelt hard on my back as he wrenched my arms back to slap handcuffs on me. My head to one side, I glared at Dan. Slow or what? Couldn't he pick up on what I'd been trying to tell him? Boris Haddon knew we were coming all right. And he'd set up a welcoming committee. There was only one reason for Sophie, Haddon's employee, to keep her jacket under the counter and that was because she didn't want to reveal who was in the back room by opening the door. If Dan had ever bothered to find himself an everyday, honest job he'd have been able to work that out for himself.

  I groaned as I was pulled to my feet, but it wasn't so much the handcuffs or the pain in my back which made me cringe. It was something else entirely. I was heading back to the police station. Mum was going to do her nut! Both Dan and I were patted down. Apart from two mobile phones and some money, my pockets were empty. The copper patting down Dan quickly found two knives on him, one in each of his jacket pockets. Stunned, Dan stared at them. He turned to me, shocked. But we had no time to do more than exchange a look before we were both bundled out of the shop and into separate police cars.

  fifty

  I ended up with an official reprimand as apparently I wasn't old enough (by less than one month) to receive a formal caution. I had trouble working out exactly what the reprimand was for. As far as I could tell, the charge was affray – which was totally specious, not to mention bogus as far as I was concerned. What it did mean though was that I was fingerprinted and a swab was taken from my mouth to provide a DNA sample. I was told the records would be destroyed after five years if I stayed out of trouble, but I wasn't holding my breath on that one. Everyone knew the police were trying to build up a DNA database of all the Meadowview residents, especially us Noughts. It was only a matter of time before the DNA of everyone in the whole bloody country was held on some computer or other.

  But I knew I should count myself lucky. Dan was charged with carrying offensive weapons and remanded on conditional bail. It could've been worse. He could've been charged with extortion or whatever the proper legal term for that is, but apparently he didn't say enough to make an extortion charge indisputable. He'd had a damn good try, though. I still couldn't believe how slow on the uptake he'd been. So the charge of carrying offensive weapons was the best the police could do. Dan was taken back to a cell to await the arrival of his mum. Knowing her, he'd be waiting an awfully long time.

  And if Mum was angry before, she was spitting nails and breathing fire by the time she came to get me. One look at her face, and staying in a cell seemed almost preferable. She didn't waste a breath before she started.

  'What did I say to you about not bringing the police to my door?' she stormed. 'And not just once but twice in one day. Are you aiming for some kind of record?'

  'I'm sorry, Mum,' I mumbled.

  'Sorry? Sorry?' That just made her even more angry. 'I don't want to hear sorry. And what were you doing in a bakery in North Meadowview?'

  'It was just a misunderstanding, Mum,' I said. 'Dan and I were just mucking around. Mr Haddon overreacted.'

  'What were you doing with Dan in the first place?'

  'Just hanging out. Mum, I didn't think it would do any harm—'

  'And this is exactly how it starts.' Mum shook her head. 'Tobey, tell me something, does Dan work for McAuley?'

  'I . . . I think so, but Mum, I don't. You've got to believe me, McAuley has got nothing that I want. Absolutely nothing,' I said quietly.

  'I don't want you hanging round Dan. He's going nowhere fast and I don't want you tagging along for the ride.'

  I looked around to make sure no one was within earshot. 'Mum, you're gonna have to trust me. Please, just trust me.' I don't know what it was – the expression on my face, some note in my voice – but something halted her tirade. She studied me long and hard.

  'Tobey, what're you up to?'

  I looked around again, nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

  'Nothing, Mum.'

  'Don't give me that, Tobey. I know you. And I know when you're up to something,' said Mum.

  'Mum, I—'

  'Has all this got something to do with Callie getting shot?' she said slowly. 'Tobey, please tell me you're not—?'

  'Mum, I'm not about to do anything stupid,' I interrupted. 'Besides, I've got you to keep me on the straight and narrow.'

  'Tobey, this isn't funny,' said Mum.

  I sighed. 'I know. I'm sorry.'

  'If I had any sense, I would ground you for the rest of the holiday.'

  'Mum, I won't get into any more trouble, I promise.' At least, I promise I'll try not to. 'Besides, I want to visit Callie later. Please?'

  'Hmmm . . .' Mum wasn't the least bit convinced, but she didn't follow through with her threat to ground me. I hadn't yet told her that I no longer worked at TFTM, which helped. I suspected that was the only reason she wasn't confining me to the house.

  'So when you wake up later, if I'm not at home, that's where I am – OK?' I said, pushing my luck.

  We took a couple of steps towards the door, but I couldn't go any further, much as I wanted to. And I really, really wanted to.

  'Mum,' I began, 'I need a favour.'

  Mum stared at me like one of us had lost our mind and she was trying to figure out which one. 'Tobey, I'm fighting a really powerful urge to explain all about the biological structure of nerves and their abundance in the human body.'

  'Why would you want to tell me about nerves?' I frowned.

  'So that when I tell you you're getting on every last one of mine, you'll appreciate just how serious that is,' she replied.

  Godsake! Sometimes Mum was too much of a nurse. 'I really need this favour, Mum.'

  'Tobey, you've got more cheek showing than a maternity ward. You drag me down here – twice – and you think you've got a favour coming?'

  'It isn't for me, Mum. It's for Dan. He's still locked up in this place and you know what his mum is like. She'll let him rot in here.'

  'And what has that got to do with me?' asked Mum testily.

  'Mum, we've got to help him. He's in trouble.'

  'He is trouble, never mind anything else,' she snapped.

  'Mum, this is important. Please. He doesn't have anyone else.'

  'Dan is not my concern. You are,' Mum argued.

  McAuley had given Dan one last chance and Dan had messed up. For the life of me, I didn't understand why I should feel any anxiety for him. Rotting in a cell was no more than he deserved. But if I left him here, the only other person who'd bail him out was McAuley. And no matter what Dan had done, I couldn't leave him to McAuley's tender mercies. I had enough on my conscience already.

  'Mum, we have to get Dan out of here.'

  Mum frowned at me, her frown deepening as she scrutinized my face. 'Has this got something to do with Dan and McAuley?'

  I nodded, albeit reluctantly.

  'They're not going to release Dan into my custody. I'm not his mother.'

  'Yes, they will,' I argued. 'The prisons and the police cells are already overcrowded so they're not going to keep anyone for longer than strictl
y necessary. As long as you say you'll take responsibility for him and sign the necessary paperwork, they'll let him go. Just tell them that if they don't release him into your custody, they'll be looking after him until his next birthday.'

  'Take a seat,' said Mum after a few moments. 'I'll be back in a minute.'

  'I'll come with you,' I said.

  'No you won't. If you want me to help Dan, you'll do as I say. Sit down and stay put. I mean it, Tobey.'

  'OK,' I agreed reluctantly.

  I stayed put, but remained standing as I watched her head over to the reception desk. She and the woman behind the desk had a long and heated discussion which looked like it was veering dangerously close to an argument at times. Finally the officer called over one of her colleagues to help behind the desk whilst she headed off somewhere. Ten minutes later she emerged with Dan walking beside her, followed by DI Boothe, who barely glanced at me. The scowl on Dan's face when he saw me could've soured honey. He watched Mum sign the forms for his release, then we all left the police station together with Mum walking slightly ahead of us.

  'Am I supposed to be grateful?' Dan asked belligerently.

  'No,' I replied.

  'Mr McAuley warned me not to screw this up,' he said, an edge to his voice. 'He already thinks I'm a liability. When he hears about this . . .'

  'It's not your fault Haddon called in the police,' I said.

  'Mr McAuley won't see it that way,' said Dan bitterly. 'So now I've got McAuley on my left and the cops on my right, thanks to that stunt you pulled. You had my back all right, just so you could stab me in it.'

  The words I wanted – needed – to say were burning holes right through me. But I kept most of them inside. Forcing myself to stay calm, I said, 'Dan, since we're discussing backstabbers, explain to me why you felt the need to sell smack to my sister.'

  Shocked, Dan took a half-step back. He put out his hands to ward me off even though I hadn't moved a muscle. 'Tobey, your sister came to me, not the other way round, I swear.'

  'And that makes it OK, does it?'

  'She said if I didn't sell her some gear she'd find someone else who would,' Dan rushed on. 'I thought if she got it from me, at least I could make sure she wasn't smoking something harmful . . .'